This weekend while I was gardening, my son and sister-in-law came to tell me about a critter she found in the recycling bin. A juvenile possum somehow ended up among empty aluminum cans. Best guesses are that she fell from the oak tree above or from the nearby fence. However she ended up in the bin, she wasn’t happy with the attention she was getting.

After removing the cans and dropping in a saucer of water, we covered the container to help calm her. The original plan was to wait until evening, then turn the container on its side so that a) mom could come find her, or b) so that she could go find mom. After boy2’s name was over boy1 excitedly told her about the possum. That’s when she called Back to Nature Wildlife Refuge and decided to take Stinky. I volunteered to take her so that my wife could work, which meant that I spent about $6 in tolls for a car ride with a stinky rat.

The volunteer picked Stinky up by the tail, identifying her as a flea infested juvenile female. Their plan is to fatten her up on formula for a bit until she’s big enough for release. It was unlikely that her mom would return, so letting her go was possibly (likely?) a death sentence. My wife was happy and that’s what counts… right?